Beckerman has written a fictionalized story about self-loathing, bed-hopping, gang-raping high school students in Anchorage, Alaska, which occasionally morphs into a comic strip. Woven between the short fictional chapters is the diary of Marty Beckerman, high school student, with entries like, “My Unforgettable [Almost] Prom Date With a Dirty Rotten Whore.” Then there are a handful of quotes from real teenagers like 19-year-old “Jonathan R.,” who told Beckerman, “I don’t have anything against having sex with drunk girls … if she says ‘yes’ she says ‘yes.’ And if she’s too drunk to say ‘no’ … Well, basically she’s saying ‘yes.’” The whole thing is riddled with statistical buckshot about rape and suicide rates, and quotations snipped from articles (including several from Salon) that reinforce the fear that teenagers are not in school but instead in their parents’ beds cutting themselves while engaging in anal sex.

It’s enough to make parents either reconsider the educational potential of nunneries, or scratch their heads and wonder if we haven’t heard this kind of alarmism before — in less graphic terms, perhaps. Salon talked to Beckerman from his dorm room in Washington, and asked him to clarify a few things.

You sound stressed. What’s bothering you?

I’m a junior, but I’m graduating this year. The book’s coming out, and then there’s graduation stuff and then figuring out what I’m doing next. It’s a pretty stressful time, to be honest. This is my big shot to be a 21-year-old author.

Why is it so important to you to be an author at 21?

I’ve always wanted it: I started writing humor for the Anchorage Daily News when I was 15. I was a teenage Dave Barry fan. My columns were wacky, but I guess pretty popular in the teenage Anchorage community. I got fired from the paper a couple of times, once for asking a 13-year-old cheerleader what it felt like to be a urine stain on the toilet seat of America. I was 17 or 18 then and I was reading more extreme authors, like Hunter Thompson and Craig Kilborn on “The Daily Show.” I was trying to emulate that in print — that vicious stuff. I fancied myself a shock humorist.

Was that the inspiration for your first book?

Yeah. “Death to All Cheerleaders” was a collection of all the shock stuff I wrote. Then I went to college and saw college life — one constant orgy of booze and sex and pleasure seeking, which is fine every once in a while.

And are you judging that pleasure seeking in “Generation S.L.U.T.”?

It isn’t meant to be an anti-sex book or about making better choices and sexual responsibility. It’s supposed to start a discussion within Generation Y about why things are the way they are. This is not a book for parents, not a book for religious leaders or reviewers or social critics or anyone other than teenagers and college students.

Why did you write it?

I think something’s really missing for American youth. I mean, other generations have had it too — Fitzgerald in the 1920s, Bret Ellis in the ’80s — but I think something’s different with this one. We grew up in prosperity, with no war until now. The whole of Generation Y is one that doesn’t really search for anything meaningful or substantial.

But other generations — like the baby boomers, or even kids in the ’80s — grew up in relatively peaceful prosperity.

Well, in the ’80s there was the threat of nukes and shit all the time. And before the Vietnam War it seemed like the world was black and white: America is good, everyone else is bad. But then there were young American soldiers being sent over there to die for a meaningless cause, and it moved the country toward relativism — they realized that absolutism had flaws. Generation Y was raised by relativists — we were a generation raised with no morals.

Your argument is that increased relativism and the encouragement of individuality left you without morals?

Well, we were raised with some values.

Like learning to see everyone as equal?

Right. But there are thongs for preschoolers, while 50-year-olds are trying to be 16 again with Botox and cosmetic surgery and boob jobs. The whole atmosphere has bred some really bizarre and morbid results.

So what is your own morally corrupt existence like these days?

I’m a 21-year-old boy. I have a girlfriend. I have sex with her. I have had one-night stands, I like to drink, I like smoking. I’m not against these things. It’s like McDonald’s: a fun and delicious treat if you go every once in a while. But if you’re going every single meal you’re a disgusting piece of crap.

How sure are you that you are really having more sex than previous generations? Isn’t it possible that people are just more open about their sexual activity now?

Well, the birth control pill probably did change everything. Now, by the end of high school, 80 percent of kids have had sex. It’s supposed to be making us happy. And sex does make people happy. It’s one of the cool things about life — get your fuck on! But instead of freedom and liberation, why has it led to so much sadness and emptiness?

But isn’t it possible that teenagers are sad because they’re teenagers? Do you really think they are sadder than ever before?

Sure, everybody is sad when they’re a teenager — and I should say that I am really insecure here talking about teenagers, because I’m not one anymore. Right now I’m trying to go to Baghdad for a book on why nations go to war. Talking about teen sex — it feels like my heart’s not really in it. I feel like “Generation S.L.U.T.” covers it pretty well. I don’t talk to teenagers on a daily basis anymore. I can’t be spokesperson for teens nationwide, because I haven’t been a teen for years now. “Generation S.L.U.T.” is a sweet goodbye kiss to adolescence.

How much of the book is based on your own actual experiences?

Everyone asked that about “Death to All Cheerleaders” — what was my beef against cheerleaders? Had I dated some cheerleader who broke my heart? But that was just a rant when I was 17 and I saw cheerleaders as the epitome of all the energy I saw in high school kids my age, wasted on jumping in the air and shouting slogans about school spirit. “Generation S.L.U.T.” is about a time when you have no perspective. When getting dumped or touching a girl’s boob for the first time is an event of cosmic proportions. It’s a book for popular kids who hate themselves. There are certainly autobiographical overtones to this book, but I wouldn’t say it’s ripped straight from my life.

And what is your next project, exactly?

It’s called “Jew-boy Goes to Hell: Young America in World War III,” in which I visit Baghdad and Tehran and Kabul and Jerusalem and the West Bank. The publisher hasn’t signed on the dotted line yet. It’s a really expensive project. But it’s about how the war on terror will affect Generation Y, because we care more about bongs and PlayStation than the future of planet earth.

So your Jewish identity seems to play a big part in your life and your work.

One time around 11th grade when I was starting to question religion, I went to the rabbi and asked, “Why do we believe in this thing we can’t prove?” And he couldn’t answer me. He said, “Well, that’s what I believe.” It pissed me off so much. Now I’m a lifelong agnostic, but the people I know who are religious have more stable lives. I can’t say the solution is God, because look at the Catholic Church, for Christ’s sake!

Yeah, you’re pretty free with the ethnic and religious slurs in “Generation S.L.U.T.”

I have been accused of being a racist by people — including my girlfriend — but stereotypes are really funny and the more we make fun of them, the better. Generation X was raised on p.c. religion. “South Park” completely obliterated that.

And what about your aggression toward the feminist movement, which you seem to blame in the book for many of your generation’s problems?

Feminists wanted it both ways — they wanted to see the end of men seeing women as something to be protected and cared for. But at the same time they wanted men to see women as — I don’t want to say “superiors,” but almost religiously. How do I put this into words? Once women and girls were not seen as special, and men treated them as equals, like they would other guys, not caring for them and not treating them well, they didn’t like it. Men don’t see them as clean and pure, but as a means to an end, a nice little fuck-hole.

But in your work, it’s not just a matter of not being special anymore. You describe them as dirtier than the men, who are doing exactly the same things.

Guys don’t see themselves as dirty. In the New York Times I was quoted about a year ago in an article by Alex Kuczynski. Her premise, and it had a lot of validity to it, was that because of genetics, the male tendency is to spread as much seed as possible, while women have a limited number of eggs during their lifetime. Previous generations tended to be more monogamous, but now the birth control pill has conquered nature. Now there is no stigma to the pill; girls take it just to improve their complexions. If guys don’t feel filthy it’s because historically that’s what men do, we are genetically conditioned to act this way. For girls it’s still new and not built into the social construction.

So is “Generation S.L.U.T.’s” gang rape a comment on women’s sexual behavior, or is it a chronicle of the type of thing you claim actually happens at high schools?

I’m not saying it happens at every school in the nation, but sure, it happens. I went through a very dramatic breakup at college, and that probably soaked into a lot of the fiction.

Were you in the middle of your nasty breakup when you wrote the gang-rape scene?

Yes, part of the bitterness from the breakup poured into the book. I had already written the gang-rape scene, so I wasn’t thinking that I was gang raping my ex or anything.

Do you consider yourself a misogynist?

I don’t consider myself a misogynist. But at the same time, I’m not going to play along with this p.c. lens of how you can view women and how you can’t view women.

What did your girlfriend think of the book?

She liked it, even though she didn’t want to be around me for a couple days after she read it.

What is your relationship with your parents like?

I’m close to my parents; they’re always involved in my life. My dad is an eye doctor; my mom is a child psychologist. Sometimes they’re overprotective. They don’t support my trip to Baghdad. They see no reason why I would want to do that. Sometimes I wish they would stop being such Jews.

What do they think of the book?

My father has read the book. He likes it, but said that some of it goes too far. My mom’s going to need to be pumped up with Thorazine before she reads a single word. “Don’t write about teen sex, Marty! Why don’t you write about bunnies?” Fuck bunnies! They fuck each other, Mom — fuck shaft in the pussy hole!

Today, Obama doubled down on his disregard for the concerns of these groups, claiming that while Sebelius made her decision without his counsel, he agreed with it. Obama pooh-poohed the findings of the FDA, which had concluded that Plan B pills posed no medical hazard and supported Sebelius’ official argument, citing a lack of confidence that “a 10-year-old or 11-year-old going to a drugstore would be able to, alongside bubble gum or batteries, be able to buy a medication that potentially if not used properly can have an adverse effect.” The logic expressed today by the president, and yesterday by Sebelius, is ludicrous: Medicines like Tylenol – which have been proven to have adverse effects in high doses – are available by the truckload on drugstore shelves, at prices far cheaper than the $30 to $50 it would cost a preteen to purchase just one dose of Plan B, let alone go wild with it.

But part of what was most disturbing about Obama’s statement was his reliance on language that reveals his paternalistic approach to women and their health.

“As the father of two daughters,” Obama told reporters, “I think it is important for us to make sure that we apply some common sense to various rules when it comes to over-the-counter medicine.”

First of all, the president was not talking about “various rules.” He was supporting a very specific rule, one that prevents young women from easily obtaining a drug that can help them control their reproductive lives, at an age when their economic, educational, familial and professional futures are perhaps most at risk of being derailed by an unplanned pregnancy. “As the father of two daughters,” Obama might want to reconsider his position on preventing young women from being able to exercise this form of responsibility over their own bodies and lives.

But as an American, I think it is important for my president not to turn to paternalistic claptrap and enfeebling references to the imagined ineptitude and irresponsibility of his daughters – and young women around the country – to justify a curtailment of access to medically safe contraceptives. The notion that in aggressively conscribing women’s abilities to protect themselves against unplanned pregnancy Obama is just laying down some Olde Fashioned Dad Sense diminishes an issue of gender equality, sexual health and medical access. Recasting this debate as an episode of “Father Knows Best” reaffirms hoary attitudes about young women and sex that had their repressive heyday in the era whence that program sprang.

A question of who should be allowed access to a safe form of contraception is at its root a question of how badly we want to, or believe that we can, police young women’s sexuality. When Obama is talking about his daughters, we know he’s not really basing his opinion on an anxiety that they might suffer the adverse effects of drinking a whole jug of Pepto-Bismol or swallowing 50 Advil, things that any 11-year-old who walks into a CVS with a wad of cash could theoretically do. When he says that he wants to “apply common sense” to questions of young women’s access to emergency contraception, he is telegraphing his discomfort with the idea of young women’s sexual agency, or more simply, with the idea of them having sex lives at all. This discomfort might be  comprehensible from an emotional, parental point of view. But these are not familial discussions; this is a public-health policy debate, and at a time when “16 and Pregnant” airs on MTV, the fact that a daddy feels funny about his little girls becoming grown-ups has no place in a discussion of healthcare options for America’s young women. It is also nearly impossible to imagine a similar use of language or logic to justify a ban of condom sales.

Moreover, Obama’s invocation of his role as a father is an insult to the commitments and priorities of those on the other side of this issue. Are we to believe that those who support the increased availability of emergency contraception do not have daughters? That if they do, they care less about those daughters than Barack Obama does about his? And that if they do not, they cannot possibly know better than a father of daughters what is best for young women? Why should we be asked to believe that Obama’s paternity imbues him with more moral authority on the subject of women’s health and reproductive lives than the investments of doctors, researchers and advocates who – regardless of their parental status – have dedicated their lives to working on behalf of increased reproductive health options. This line of argument is no better than the Mama Grizzly argument developed by Sarah Palin during 2010′s midterm elections, in which she asserted that her band of super-conservative mothers were qualified for office because “moms just know when there’s something wrong.”

Barack Obama has long had a tin ear for language that has anything to do with women and even more specifically with women’s rights. While on the campaign trail for president in 2008, he waved off a female reporter who asked a question about the future of the auto industry, referring to her diminutively as “sweetie.” The same year, attempting to play both sides on the issue of reproductive freedom, he gave an interview with a religious magazine in which he asserted his support for states’ restrictions on late-term abortions as long as there was an exception for the health of the mother, but added that he didn’t “think that ‘mental distress’ qualifies as the health of the mother.” Attempting to recover from that line and reassert his pro-choice bona fides, Obama later clarified that of course he believed in a medical exemption for “serious clinical mental health diseases,” just not when seeking a late-term abortion is “a matter of feeling blue,” perpetuating a wildly irresponsible vision of the rare and difficult late-term abortion as a moody impulse-buy.

Today also isn’t the first time he’s used references to members of his family to make a larger offensive point about women. Back in 2009, when charges that his officially female-friendly administration included some boys’ club tendencies hit the front of the New York Times, Obama dismissed the claims as “bunk.” Reporter Mark Leibovich noted at the time that the president “often points out that he is surrounded by strong females at home,” an argument that not only mimics an old saw about how being henpecked by women is equivalent to respecting them, but reflects a dynamic as old as patriarchal power itself and sidesteps the question of how strong females are treated at work. In 2010, while appearing on “The View,” Obama made a creaky Take-My-Wife-Please joke about how he wanted to appear on “a show that Michelle actually watched” as opposed to the news shows she usually flips past. The joke being that his missus, the one he met when she mentored him at a high-powered law firm, just doesn’t have a head for news delivered by anyone other than Elisabeth Hasselbeck.

It should no longer come as a surprise that the president of the United States is, on perhaps an unconscious level, an old-school patriarch. What’s startling is the degree to which Obama seems not to have learned from any of his past gaffes, how no one seems to have told him – or told him in a way that he’s absorbed – that the best way to address a question of women’s health and rights is probably not by making it about his role as a father.

This might be an especially valuable chat to have with the president as he moves into 2012 and toward an election in which he is going to be relying on the support of people he has just managed to anger, offend and speak down to — women. The least he could do is learn to address them with respect.

But has it actually whetted the film business’s appetite for more female-driven projects? Salon called Lynda Obst, producer of movies like “Sleepless in Seattle,” “Contact” and “How to Lose a Guy in Ten Days,” the television show “Hot in Cleveland,” the author of “Hello, He Lied” and all-around movie sage, to see what, if anything, has changed in her town this summer.

Did the success of “Bridesmaids” make a difference to your business?

Yes. It had the biggest impact of any women’s movie that I can remember in my career.

In your whole career, which began with “Flashdance” in 1983?

Yeah. It came at a moment when any movies for women, women’s comedies — forget dramas, there are no dramas for anybody — but women’s comedies, women’s thrillers were going to get put by the wayside forever. Women’s projects were dying everywhere. That’s why the opening of “Bridesmaids” was so critical for every woman in features, why its success was attended with such profound interest by every woman writer, producer and director in town.

The second important factor was that there were no stars in the movie and it wasn’t tracking in advance.

And that matters because it means that it was the material, not a movie star, that drew people to theaters?

Yes. Its success wasn’t automatic. A star opens a movie. Sandra Bullock opens a movie. But there was nobody in this movie who had ever been in a movie before, so it’s the hardest kind of movie to open.

It means that its success was due to the fact that people enjoyed it, and gave it good word of mouth once the movie started screening. Which leads us to the gigantic thing, which was the revelation that women can open a movie, and also, that this [women's movie] crossed over. Men came. It drew women of all ages and it drew guys and was a major hit. And not just domestically, which is part two of this gigantic thing, because the movie business right now is being driven by international box office.

Comedy doesn’t usually travel well. Movies that travel are movies with very little dialogue, usually dependent on action or family content or big international stars. But “Bridesmaids” did very well internationally. The concept was easy to understand in all languages. It gave us a clue as to what movies will work internationally with women in them. So what we learned is: Broad comedies will sell abroad, even with broads.

What are the immediate effects of this?

There are suddenly projects for women! I’m pitching one right now that is a female-based comedy and people are really responsive to it. And then my directing debut, which was dead in the water at New Line, went from having no momentum to having momentum, the weekend right after “Bridesmaids” opened. “Bridesmaids” meant that the idea of being able to make a movie about women was resuscitated.

Well, for now. What if the next female comedy flops?

If the next one flops, who knows? Two action movies flop and it means nothing; one women’s movie flops and it’s the end. But “Bridesmaids” was followed immediately by the success of “The Help,” which was terrific because that was driven by women too.

So what we’re finding in the American market is that younger male eyeballs are disappearing in large numbers, going to video games, going to the Internet. But women are going to the movies, if you make movies for them.

Now, does this mean we will stop making movies for the younger male quadrant? No, because the young male quadrant likes the same movies as international audiences — action movies, man movies.

Man movies?

“Ironman,” “Spider-Man,” “Batman.” Man movies.

Are studios pursuing women’s projects or are people just feeling like they can pitch them again?

I think the latter. But I think studios were suddenly receptive to them.

This is not the first time in recent memory that a woman’s movie has done well and studios have failed to notice in any permanent way. “The Devil Wears Prada,” your movie “How to Lose a Guy in Ten Days,” “Sex and the City” have all been big women-driven hits, and yet women’s movies were on the brink of extinction.

Studios have institutionally short memories when it comes to women’s movies. “Sex and the City II” did better internationally than it did domestically, which would have made you think that they would have noticed it. I mean, that’s what inclines Fox to make “Ice Ages”; sequels do so well internationally. But studios don’t seem to generalize by the same rules in women’s movies as they do for other movies.

Every time a woman’s movie does well, it’s a brand-new fact. Every time we rediscover the female audience, it’s astonishing.

So it’s possible that despite “Bridesmaids’” success, four years from now you and I will be having the same conversation about the death of women’s comedy?

Yes.

That’s depressing. But back to the success of “Bridesmaids.” There was a certain amount of social awareness around going to the movie. Because of the press it got, women seemed to be aware that going to see the movie was not just about enjoying it, but about sending a message to Hollywood. Do you think that had an impact on its box office?

Well, I know there was tremendous awareness in Los Angeles that we had to open this movie. I believe it happened in New York too, but I don’t know that that happened nationally.

What happened nationally was that there was a hunger for something for women to relate to, because there’s usually nothing out there for them. It’s what happens with an urban audience with Tyler Perry.

I had a sense from friends in other cities that they were going with their girlfriends and that they knew it was made for them.  It’s so rare that there’s a movie made for them. It generated such excitement.

You would think that that excitement alone would send a message that there is an eager audience out there for material about women.

Well, I think you can see a lot of that reaction on television. It is the year of women on television. Television is much more female-friendly than Hollywood. There are a tremendous number of female executives, and when they see something like “Bridesmaids,” it’s much easier to react fast to it, and there’s less institutional resistance. They love the zeitgeist.

But timing-wise, this season of television was already a done deal before “Bridesmaids” opened, so it can’t have been a reaction, can it?

Well, the [final] decisions about this current fall season were made at the upfronts, which roughly coincided [Editor's note: actually, directly coincided in mid-May] with the opening of “Bridesmaids,” so there actually could have been a connection.

But also, I have just been through the next season of creative development and let me tell you it’s just as female-friendly as the one that’s on air now. There are shows about women and girlfriends and not just couples. There is television about women, for women. Real women.

“Hey A Lot Of Ladies,” began a mass email I received on Wednesday from Emily Bracken, a writer and acquaintance. She was forwarding a message from Kirsten “Kiwi” Smith, a producer and the screenwriter of “Legally Blonde” and “The House Bunny,” who has no professional connection with “Bridesmaids” but is nonetheless agitating on its behalf. “I know you get a lot of emails about donating money to worthy causes, but I’d like to draw your attention to one in particular: The Chick Flick,” Smith wrote. “It is currently on the Motion Picture Association of America’s list of Endangered Species and it faces extinction if we don’t act now.”

Urging everyone to buy tickets to the movie, Smith continued, “Let’s show the planet we are capable of queefing out some major box-office lady-power.”

Bracken added her own message on top of Smith’s. It read, in part, “I encourage each and every one of you to see ‘Bridesmaids’ this weekend, not just because it’s hilarious, but because we MUST show Hollywood that women DO want movies that are not vapid romcoms or something about shopping … A lot is riding on this movie. So please bring your girlfriends, boyfriends, husbands, and neighbors out in droves. And please, if you feel moved, encourage others to do so, as well.”

Yes we can … buy tickets to a Kristen Wiig movie in an effort to persuade Hollywood that multidimensional women exist, spend money and deserve to be represented on film.

What’s motivating this campaign is simple: Hollywood studios do not make comedies for or about women anymore. Yes, they used to. As recently as a few decades ago, when comedy stars like Lily Tomlin, Bette Midler and Goldie Hawn stalked through theaters alongside supporting players like Teri Garr, Carol Kane and Madeline Kahn, bringing us movies that were sometimes sublime and sometimes disposable, but which had women at their heart. Think “Private Benjamin,” “9 to 5,” “Outrageous Fortune,” “Down and Out in Beverly Hills”…

Those days are long gone, and we now inhabit an entertainment universe in which everything male-centered is standard, and everything female-centered is female (yes, this dynamic extends into publishing, politics and professionalism, but for now, let’s keep it to Hollywood). What that means in practical terms is that women will plonk down dollars to see a male-dominated action movie, a girl-gobbling horror flick, or a dude-centric comedy just as easily as they’ll pay for the kind of female-fueled movie that is literally made for them. Men, meanwhile, have apparently been so conditioned to find anything female emasculating (notwithstanding the expectation that their girlfriends find anything male, including “Thor,” scintillating) that they cannot be moved to sit through any movie with a fully developed woman at its center. As Tad Friend recently put it in his New Yorker profile of the actress Anna Faris — in a sentence mentioned frequently by “Bridesmaids” activists — “Studio executives believe that male moviegoers would rather prep for a colonoscopy that experience a woman’s point of view, particularly if that woman drinks or swears or has a great job or an orgasm.”

So studio executives simply don’t make movies, and especially comedies, from a woman’s point of view anymore. Which doesn’t even make that much economic sense, given the fact that even without a male audience, women are so powerful a consumer force that they can make the few movies that do focus on them successes — see “The Devil Wears Prada,” or “Sex and the City” and “Sex and the City 2.” (Actually, don’t see “Sex and the City 2,” but consider what its high grosses say about exactly how desperate women are to find themselves reflected on the screen in anything other than supporting, carelessly sketched nubile girlfriend roles.)

Enter “Bridesmaids,” a movie chock full of female talent, based on a script solicited from Wiig after she impressed bro-mantic comedy king Judd Apatow in her supporting role in “Knocked Up.” If this movie can win the box office (or, frankly, even get close) on its all-important opening weekend, the thinking goes, studio executives will have an economic incentive to make more female-friendly films like it.

The movie is being sold in the vein of Apatow’s boyish burp-fests: Trailers focus on a food poisoning scene that involves women in bridal gowns excreting from both ends. But the plot line — which centers on Wiig’s 30-something character, down on her luck professionally and personally, being put through the modern maid-of-honor mill by her best friend — offers the promise of something really good: an exploration of female social relationships, all the more complicated in an age when we do not all marry by 22 but create our adult lives alongside our girlfriends.

From the trailers, I have come to hope that “Bridesmaids” might in fact be a broader and more commercial take on the kind of relationship Nicole Holofcener painfully and hilariously picked apart in 1996′s “Walking and Talking,” one of the best movies about women ever made. (Holofcener has consistently made funny, stirring flicks about chicks, but they are by no stretch of the imagination blockbusters, or even major releases. It is a testament to their rarity that after her 2006 movie “Friends With Money” concluded, one of the two girlfriends I’d gone to see it with remained in her seat, staring at the screen. When I nudged her to move, she looked at me balefully and said, “I didn’t want it to end. I want it to keep going.”)

I have not seen “Bridesmaids,” though I know many people who have said good things about it, including Salon’s Mary Elizabeth Williams. And Tuesday night, before receiving the email from Bracken forwarded by Smith, I was moved to post on Facebook Melissa Silverstein’s explanation from “Women and Hollywood” of “Why Bridesmaids Matters,” after seeing a link to Silverstein’s post on the Facebook page of movie producer (“Sleepless in Seattle,” “How to Lose a Guy in Ten Days”) Lynda Obst. Obst had written, “Seriously, we have to see this movie this weekend. If you are a woman, like women, or simply don’t hate them … if we don’t go, they won’t build them anymore.”

Just a few minutes later, Farrin Jacobs, an editorial director at HarperCollins Children’s books, commented on the link that though she had already seen the film, she had made a date to see it again this weekend with girlfriends, “because I want funny lady movies to keep existing.” Jacobs later told me that her determination was born of that New Yorker piece, and how sad she’d become thinking that men just won’t watch female characters. She’d been in Los Angeles and scored tickets to the “Bridesmaids” premiere, and she claims that at one point, the movie made her laugh so hard that she cried. “Seeing the movie and thinking about the Anna Faris article, and knowing that if this movie didn’t do well, that would be it for at least the next couple of years for the life of female comedies, I’m trying to get everybody I know to see it,” said Jacobs. “Also, it’s funny.”

So here is this movie. This movie that may be silly, may be gross, may be great, may be terrible, may have hidden under its flatulent exterior a nuanced and too rarely spied depiction of female connection. It seems that it really matters — to Hollywood and its press and its executives and its female moviemakers and storytellers and performers — how it does. As Obst, who has no professional involvement in “Bridesmaids,” told me when I contacted her about this story, “We are all watching it like we made it.” The film’s director, Paul Feig, who perhaps has copped an overly chivalrous tone recently, told the Onion’s AV club, “It’s not often that a studio will allow a movie that’s all driven by women to be made, so I felt the pressure of, ‘If I screw this up, it’s going to fuck things up for women.’”

I just keep thinking about Wiig, the driving creative force behind the existence of the film, having been thrust, apparently unwillingly, into the role of feminist figurehead. I imagine her holed up in a hotel room, Hillary Clinton style, waiting for the polls to close and the weekend box office numbers to be finalized.

Me, I’ve been wondering how I’m going to get out of the house to the movie theater. I am home on a maternity leave, a 6-week-old beside me, just beginning to figure out baby sitting. Perhaps I will try to take my daughter to the earliest neighborhood matinee, provided she’s not fussing. She’s in the only stage of a woman’s life in which she’s actively encouraged to do what the ladies in this movie apparently are doing: belching, farting, barfing. More than that, maybe it will be an investment in her moviegoing future, an effort to ensure that she will have years ahead of her in which she has a chance to see herself, her friendships, her relationships, her work and her life reflected back at her in a way that makes her laugh till she cries.